Boggart
by Five Minutes Til Bedtime
Summary: Everyone who didn't battle the boggart in the first class is forced into a make-up lesson. Only featuring Harry's boggart. One-shot.


Title: **Boggart**

Summary: Everyone who didn't battle the boggart in the first class is forced into a make-up lesson. Only featuring Harry's boggart. One-shot.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Word Count: 1169

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Thirteen-year-old Harry Potter was unusually subdued as he entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. His mouth was tugged down into a slight frown, an expression that he didn't wear often outside of the privacy of his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. It was self-preservation thing really – one that he had learned far before Hogwarts. He could smile and he could get angry, but to show just the hint of worry or sadness was like waving a white flag and broadcasting weakness. People noticed, and that was the very last thing Harry ever wanted.

The desks were already cleared out of the way in preparation for today's lesson and Harry joined the gathering students who pooled on the edges of the empty floor. Like them, he kept his eyes studiously off the battered old trunk in the middle that gave an occasional rattle and thunk, as though something big and heavy was hammering the insides. The announcement for a second DADA class on boggarts for those who hadn't gotten a go the first round had been made the night before. It was mandatory. Apparently dealing with boggarts was a requirement for third years. Looking around the room, Harry noticed he was not the only one displeased.

A large number of students, pulled from every house, were present. Unlike the first lesson, which had been full of nervous excitement and shy smiles, this group was a more solemn lot. Scarcely anyone was chattering, and those who were talking were clumped together in small, tight groups that jumped whenever the chest rattled. Many were wearing frowns similar to Harry's. He wondered if they were remembering the last lesson too.

To put it simply, the last lesson had been _fun_. There was happy music and laughter and boys jostling each other to get the next go at their fears. It was like a game, and to Harry, a slap in the face.

Spiders. Clowns. Snape. We're these really someone's greatest fear? Harry didn't think it could be possible. If it was, it didn't seem fair.

In his own mind, he flittered helplessly back and forth. There were so many, many things that Harry feared, and even the smallest of them seemed immensely bigger than clowns. He wished Hermione was there with him and not stuck in the hospital wing with moonwing flu, because while she probably _would _have something like getting a bad grade as her biggest fear, he thought that at least she wouldn't make fun of his own anxiety.

Professor Lupin's abrupt arrival through a back door drew everyone's sudden attention, as did his appraising expression as he surveyed them. Harry felt Lupin's gaze hover over him for a beat too long and ducked his eyes.

He hadn't even gone yet and people were staring at him.

"Alright class, circle round, same as before," called the professor in a light voice. Reluctantly Harry did as he was told and was glad to see he was not the only on hesitant to do so. Harry noticed Draco Malfoy looking even more pale than usual as he drew closer to the rackety chest. For once, he didn't even want to mention it.

Professor Lupin had them all pull out their wands and practice the incantation a few times to remind them. Then, with a smile that seemed a little too wide for the grim atmosphere, he flicked his wand to start the music and made a gesture for someone to step forward.

Several seconds passed and no one dared move a muscle. Eyes flickered self-consciously around the circle, waiting for someone to step forth. Apart from the music and the chest there was dead silence. No one was smiling now. Every face was grim.

Harry's fingers clenched around his wand unconsciously. He did not look around. He did not remove his eyes for a moment from the chest. Now that he dared look at it, it was like he had caught the tiger's eyes and could not look away. He was not waiting for someone else. He was waiting for him.

He had always faced his fears before and he knew he would do it again.

With a deep breath, he tightened his grip on his wand and took a single step forward. Every eye snapped in his direction.

As always, once his mind was set it was almost easy to take the next step forward, and the next, even with his heart pounding wildly beneath his skin.

When he was less than three yards away, the chest abruptly stopped rattling. All was still for a moment, before suddenly, almost silently the chest clicked open.

The music faded beneath the rushing sound of Harry's blood in his head. His eyes were fixed on the chest, whose lid was slowly pushed open. He saw a thin, spidery hand and he _knew_ at last. The hand connected to a black, shadowy robe that rose up, as though on an elevator, to reveal a thin, handsome, man with glowing red eyes.

Harry met the murderous stare of Lord Voldemort and almost felt relief. Better the enemy you know than the one you've never met before.

Harry had faced Lord Voldemort before. He was afraid – Merlin help him, he was petrified! – but it was familiar fear.

Instead of shaking or flinching as many before had before against spiders and wolves, Harry's back straightened and his knees stopped shaking. His hands grew still, and he raised his wand even as Lord Voldemort drew so near they were practically face to face.

"Potter," the boggart hissed, voice high and caressing and oh-so familiar. "This time, you die for good!"

Harry didn't even blink.

"Maybe next time. _Ridiculus!"_

Harry's spell hit Lord Voldemort dead on and the figure stepped back a few feet. Yet, Lord Voldemort was still standing unscathed a moment later as he and Harry squared off.

Harry recognized something different in the Dark Lord eyes as he met Harry's yet again. Something alien was peering at him from behind those familiar red eyes. The boggart inclined Voldemort's head slightly and Harry saw a glimmer of respect in those eyes as the boggart smiled. It's teeth were pointed.

"Well done, hero," said the Voldemort puppet, voice low and animalistic.

Then, in the next moment, the form melted back into the chest and it closed with an audible click.

In the silence of the next moment, as the happy music suddenly came back into his hearing at full force, Harry remembered that he had an audience. He looked around and found the circle demolished, and every student back up against the walls as far away from the boggart as possible.

Harry blushed. Their eyes made him uncomfortable – particularly Malfoy, who was looking at him with an expression that Harry had never seen before. Something that was soft and hard at the same time and entirely devoid of the usual malice.

Professor Lupin, cleared his throat.

"Right, well, who's next?"

No one was afraid to step forward.


End file.
